


meet me

by zjofierose



Series: (every now and then) on my mind - Angstober 2019 [14]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Bittersweet, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Life Changes, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: "one last time"
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov
Series: (every now and then) on my mind - Angstober 2019 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998550
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	meet me

**Author's Note:**

> just a baby ficlet for a prompt from a 2019 Angstober list

“So this is it.”

Victor looks up from unlacing his skates. He smiles and pats the bench beside him.

“I guess it is. I have to say, I thought you’d stick around another year or two.”

Chris shrugs, dropping his gear bag to the floor next to Victor’s. The ice is clearing from the men’s pre-Worlds practice day session, friends and strangers straggling out of the building in search of coaches and dinners and hotel rooms. Otabek’s there, and Yuri; Seung-gil and Leo. Michele Crispino’s sitting this one out with a bad ankle and Guang-hong had finally hit a growth spurt, leading to an uneven season and a failure to qualify. Phichit’s around somewhere - Victor saw him and Yuuri making exuberant hand gestures at each other earlier - and of course there’s the whole new crop of up-and-comers. Fresh young faces and athletic young bodies, boys a full decade younger than both Chris and he, newly qualified senior circuit skaters who were literal tiny children when Chris and Victor first took the senior ice. 

“I considered it,” Chris says, and shrugs. “But when I thought about it honestly, I really wasn’t ever going to top last season. I can feel it in my body.” He rolls an ankle until it pops and grins at Victor’s disgusted expression. “Besides, the part of all this nonsense that I  _ truly _ love is performing, and if I retire now, I can do that for years to come instead of dragging myself through the competition circuit until I get injured.”

Victor nods. It’s a perfectly reasonable choice, really, and not that different from his own. 

“How’s your bright future as Russia’s top choreographer panning out?” Chris asks, his eyes twinkling. 

Victor snorts a laugh and shoves his skate guards onto his blades. “Don’t let Lilia Malinovna hear you.”

Chris just waves a hand. “Yes, well. I’m sure you two can come to a successful partnership. Besides, you’ve still got Yuuri to coach for a few more seasons, no?”

Victor hums, watching absently as the final skater exits the ice and the zamboni rolls out from the door in the wall. It’s hypnotizing, the methodical refinishing of the ice, no matter how many thousands of times he’s seen it in his life. A clean slate, a fresh chance. Every time he takes the ice it’s new - even at his lowest, the ice was always unmarked, waiting for him to tell it how to be.

“Yes,” he agrees. “At least one more. He only likes to take it a season at a time.”

“ _ You _ made it to thirty,” Chris elbows him in the side. “Surely that means Yuuri’s got another four left in him.”

“You didn’t, though.” Victor smirks as Chris sticks out his tongue. “And besides,  _ he _ didn’t take nine months off in the middle of it all like I did. I definitely think I would have had to quit at least a year earlier, maybe two, if I hadn’t done that.”

“Really?” Chris looks thoughtful. “It made that much of a difference?”

“Yes. And besides…” Victor trails off, watching the zamboni make its careful circles, erasing all evidence of the success and failure, the artistry and execution which had been carved into its treacherous surface. “Besides, if I hadn’t spent those nine months in Hasetsu, I would have… I don’t know. Not made it to here, that’s for sure.” He shivers.

Chris clicks his tongue. “I am glad that you did, my friend. We all missed you, but we would have missed you more had you not gone there and returned.”

Victor reaches over and takes Chris’ hand, feeling the welcome heat of Chris’ warm palm in his own chilly fingers. 

“So cold,” Chris scolds, bringing his other hand over to cradle Victor’s fingers in both of his own. “Such a Russian; ice in your veins,  _ mon cher _ .”

“Do you think you’ll miss it, Chris?” There’s a wistfulness to Victor’s tone that he would like to hide, but it’s safe with Chris even if it leaves Victor feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“Probably.” Chris’ voice is matter-of-fact with the underlying pragmatism and sincerity that so many miss and which Victor has always treasured. “I’m sure I’ll feel left out when they release next year’s assignments, and it’ll be hard not to compare what I might have done against what programs get performed. But-” he turns to Victor and smiles. “All good things in life have a hint of sadness. It’s how you appreciate the joy.”

“Spoken like a Catholic,” Victor teases, and Chris rolls his eyes. 

“Pretty sure it’s the Buddhists who say life is suffering,  _ cheri _ ,” he answers, and Victor laughs. 

“Someone needs to tell Phichit, then. I don’t think he got that memo.”

“Are you going to miss it, Vitya?” Chris’ voice is gentle.

“Probably.” Victor squeezes the fingers holding his own. “But I’ll still be involved; I think that will help. Even if I’m not out there performing, my student and my choreography will be. And both Yuuri and Yura are as good or better than I am; I have nothing left to prove.”

“A healthy attitude.” Chris nods decisively. “And besides, you’ve got all those ice shows to plan. I expect a personal invitation to each one.”

“As if I’d ever consider leaving you out.” Victor lets his head fall onto Chris’ shoulder, reveling in the friendly warmth pressed against him. 

“You’d better not. Now come on,  _ schenok _ . Let’s go get some hot chocolate or some mulled wine or something lovely, and talk about how we’re going to beat everyone tomorrow and go out on top. I’ll take the gold, of course.”

“Of course,” Victor agrees as he lets Chris drag him to his feet and hand him his bag. “I wouldn’t dream of beating you one last time; that would just be rude.”

“See,” Chris says, beaming as he links their arms and steers them into the tunnel. “This is why we’re friends,  _ cheri _ . You get me.”

Victor just smiles. “I do,” he says, and lets Chris guide him out of the rink.


End file.
